Hounded
by C0123
Summary: Movie Universe - Clarice must face the music after the events of Paul Krendler's death. The media make her life hell, as everyone wonders about what really happened that night. Cue Dr Lecter with his help. R&R this will continue with other chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Clarice Starling, FBI!"

Clarice raised her hand above her head, waiting for them to come and collect her. Suddenly from the corner of her eye she noticed a small boat gliding across the lake. Fireworks erupted from across the bank.

"Daring, I'll give him that."

She smiled to herself, could she really have taken him in whilst she could still taste him on her lips? She should have been horrified, the horrors that his mouth had inflicted, instead of his personal mark of terror, he had caressed her lips with his own, he had drank her in. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to her, since their meeting in Memphis she must have known he felt more for her than any other Special Agent who had the unfortunate task of trying to part some knowledge from him.

She wasn't exactly suitably dressed for a mission, she was completely aware of that fact, realising just how this must look to an outsider, she brought her arms down to her chest; covering herself with them. What would they say when they saw her? This was a scandal which would make the Drumgo case pale in comparison. She could almost see the faces of her counterparts back at the Bureau pale and horrified. The whispers behind her back, the vicious rumours circling about her relationship with the doctor. Why did he murder Krendler yet keep her alive?

Arms gripped her and before she knew it she was being led to a patrol car, a young officer looked her up and down his piggish little eyes looking anywhere but her face. She momentarily entertained the idea of telling him exactly what Dr Lecter would do with a letch like him before realising it really wouldn't help her case.

Soon she was driving away from the house, she didn't look back. She wondered to herself if she would ever see him again, realising what she was doing, she put it down to her own human and morbid curiosity, who wouldn't be he was a prime candidate to be curious about.

Her hands went to her eyes, she was exhausted the morphine was taking its toll on her body, her muscles ached, and fatigue had rooted itself. Then she felt herself drifting and it all went black.

Bright orange lights invaded her eyes, making them ache and throb. She had passed out in the patrol car and was now back at the Bureau the eyes of her contemporaries boring down onto her. She tried to move her arm but found that she was hooked up to a machines, her mind boggled at the amount of experiments she had probably been subject to whilst she was out.

"We found morphine in your system Ms Starling, your body has been through a lot of trauma, but _he _has obviously done a careful job of patching you up."

Eyebrows rose in the room and a cacophony of murmurs erupted.

"I'm surprised that you were capable of walking the amount that he had administered." Clarice nodded, her head burning with the effort.

"We're going to keep an eye on you for the rest of the night, and then you will be free to go."

A small laugh sounded from the corner of the room, relaying the thoughts of every other agent in the room. By tomorrow the media would be in a frenzy, there was no way that she would be free in any way shape or form.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The potent stench of disinfectant invaded the nose of Clarice Starling; she opened a blurry eye and beheld a room of pure white. The crisp linen beneath her and the clean but muggy scent of them confirmed her suspicions.

"Urgh. Hospital wing." She croaked. Allowing her eyes to focus more she could make out the silhouette of a man stood at the foot of the bed.

"Ms. Starling. I've come to escort you back to your duplex." As she focused more she noted the wary face of Agent Noonan.

"Of course, just let me get dressed." Clarice stretched her fingers out onto the white linen and allowed each muscle in her aching body to contract and relax slowly. Noonan left the cubicle and Clarice swiftly darted for the spare clothes that had been left for her in the duration of the night.

The sun hadn't broken through yet and she would have guessed that it was no later than 5am. It occurred to her that they were most probably hoping to miss the press on the way out of the Bureau and this was the reason for the timely exit.

She emerged from the cubicle and was met by a number of police officers waiting outside for her, each of them turning in succession as she approached them. It was as if she had just walked in as everybody in the room was talking about her. Of course in this case they probably were. A police escort this big most definitely wasn't just for the good of her health, they must have been convinced that she would make a break for it as soon as she left the premises. Clarice noted that the risqué dress that she had attired that night had mysteriously vanished, no doubt in a laboratory somewhere being ripped apart for evidence. Shame really, he has impeccable taste.

The group walked silently down the corridor towards the back door. The sound of Cuban heels on laminate flooring was the only sound that accompanied them. Clarice travelled in the middle of the group, next to Agent Noonan.

"Well here goes nothing." Noonan sighed, swinging open the emergency doors at the back of the building which they had hoped the press would bypass. They had been informed. The media swamped the group; white flashes burnt Clarice's irises, her head down; like a true professional. She tipped her coat over her head, pushing her way through the reporters; met with crude shouting.

"Was he good Clarice?"

"Is it true that you murdered Agent Krendler, Ms. Starling?"

"Is he coming back for you Agent?"

After what felt like a lifetime Clarice found herself being bundled into the back of a black Mercedes, the back windows tinted so that no by passers would be able to see her. Before long she found herself at the duplex she shared with Ardelia Mapp, her friend pushed through the barrage of reporters hounding her home and took Clarice by the hand, hurrying her through the reporters once again. Finally Clarice found herself wrapped in Ardelia's embrace away from the prying eyes of the rest of the world.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

"Ardelia." Starling yelled to her friend from her side of the duplex, on not being answered she strolled into Ardelia's side of the duplex.

"I'm making bacon, just wondered if you wanted some?" Ardelia visibly jumped at the sound of Starling's voice. She crumpled the newspaper; which had so ardently retained her interest throughout her and Clarice's one sided conversation onto her lap and blushed furiously.

"Erm... Yes that would be great, thanks Clarice." She attempted to regain some form of composure as she looked up at Clarice's questioning gaze.

"Let me see it."

"What."

"The paper you dimwit."

"Clarice, really, it's nothing..." Clarice took the newspaper off Ardelia's lap and opened up the front page to see a full size portrait of herself with the headline "Lecter's FBI lover." She swallowed and threw the paper in the dustbin.

"Now there's an accusation that I'm not even going to dignify."

"The people who matter know it's not true." Ardelia stood and placed an arm around Clarice.

"I know. I just would rather people didn't think that I was a raving mad cannibal loving murderer."

Clarice laughed at her private joke and turned to Ardelia.

"I appreciate you're loyalty, really I do, there aren't many Agents who would be quite as willing to stick around."

"I know you Clarice, you've done nothing wrong." Clarice smiled as the sound of the letter box startled her out of her reverie.

"I'll go. We don't know what it is yet."

An assortment of tabloids had been stuffed through the letter box, Ardelia picked them up and was about to dispose of them when Clarice appeared behind her.

"No. I want to see what I'm up against." Ardelia reluctantly handed over the wad of papers to Clarice.

"Just to warn you. It's not pretty."

Clarice laid the papers out one by one onto the kitchen table, 4 in total. The Times, The National News, The Currier and of course her personal favourite The National Tattler. Naturally she was front page news on all of them; the headlines screaming out at her from each of the papers; somebody obviously wanted her to see what people thought of her.

"The Bureau hasn't released Krendler's post mortem details yet, this is a breeze compared to what they will be like after that comes out." Clarice eyed her own picture on the front of the National Tattler, the woman on the page seemed like a stranger to her.

"What happened to him Starling?" Ardelia moved around the table to stand next to Clarice, she transfixed her gaze onto the same piece of text that Clarice had stopped on.

"Lecter gave him a lobotomy and ate the evidence, as did Paul." Ardelia gagged and saw the pained expression on Clarice's face.

"Hell, girl I know he was a twat to you and all but you shouldn't have had to witness that."

"No."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The curtains in Clarice's half of the duplex were tightly drawn; only the slightest amount of light was allowed to creep into the bedroom. She had drawn them as soon as she had got in, knowing full well that the press would have no qualms about invading her privacy and aiming their lenses through the windows of the duplex.

She lay in bed thinking to herself; the attention was draining, the general consensus of the American media, and probably now the general public was that she; Clarice Starling was the lover of Hannibal Lecter, whether she liked it or not the two names were combined on the lips of every news reader across the country. It worried her just how accurate they were; true enough her and the doctor were not lovers, but they were close. He had kissed her that night and she hadn't stopped him. She had relished the touch of his lips on hers. He was intoxicating; she closed her eyes and pictured him. He was everything a woman would wish for; besides the whole eating people misdemeanour. Handsome, intelligent, wealthy and completely captivating.

She opened her eyes, furious with herself.

"I am an FBI Agent. He is Dr Hannibal Lecter, a veteran of America's Most Wanted."

Clarice tore her quilt off her legs, walking to the bathroom quickly purely for something to do. She ran the tap and splashed cool water up her face, trying to cleanse her mind of the thoughts which had just polluted them. Suddenly a movement from downstairs startled her out of her reverie she pulled a bathrobe around her and moved downstairs; her cuffs and gun had been confiscated for good now; including her spare.

She crept quietly down the stairs; trying to keep the sound from her footsteps to a minimum; it wasn't him she was certain of that. He wasn't stupid enough to announce his entry to the world, the thought scared her even more; at least with Lecter she knew where she stood.

She heard a rustling coming from the kitchen; the lights were off. It definitely wasn't a false alarm. Ardelia would have put the lights on. Peering around the corner of the doorframe she caught sight of Ardelia on the opposite side of the kitchen; mirroring her thoughts ready to pounce on the intruder.

"Freeze FBI!" The man jumped out of his skin, dropping the kitchen utensils that he had in his hands he turned on his heels and was faced with the two formidable women leering at him.

"I'm from the tattler, please, don't shoot!" He glanced at Ardelia's cocked gun and then glanced over at Clarice. He was quite obviously no older than 18, Ardelia lowered her gun and motioned to Clarice. They gripped him by the arms; one on each and led him to the front door, opening it abruptly they threw him onto the doorstep.

"This is yours." Clarice spat at the red faced man at the door.

"We will speak tomorrow. I have a statement to make, until then if I see any of you cretins inside my house I will be filling for a restraining order."

"Were you hoping it was Dr Lecter, Agent Starling?" The older man grinned at her.

She exhaled, turned and slammed the door in his face.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Clarice, Clarice!" Clarice ran towards the sounds of Ardelia's shouting, her heckles up and ready to strike at any scumbag who happened to be in the vicinity.

"You have to see this before you make a statement." Ardelia breathed thrusting a battered copy of the National Tattler into Clarice's outstretched hands.

Clarice gaped at the headline, her face showing more and more disbelief as she read on. The press were trying to blame her for the death of Paul Krendler; the consensus was that if she hadn't saved Dr Lecter that their beloved Paul Krendler would still be alive today. The bile they were spouting had her in disbelief; the results of the post mortem were printed quite obviously within the article. They described quite thoroughly just what had happened to Krendler in his final moments. A picture of the dress Clarice had been wearing accompanied the article, lending more belief to the accusations of a relationship between her and the good doctor.

"I'm going to be dog meat." Clarice threw the paper down in disgust. "One thing's for sure Ardelia. Lecter won't stand for this, I think this is a lure; to bring him back out of hiding, they think we are lovers; they are treating me like this in the hopes that he will respond. Plus they think that I am the spawn of Satan."

Clarice laughed darkly to herself.

"Make the statement Clarice, deny everything and mention what happened last night."

"You think I should? This could very well start a killing spree."

"He's not stupid you know that better than anyone else, he isn't going to risk being found, he had a very lucky escape. He knows it's the needle that awaits."

Clarice sat down at the table and began to write.

"I told the Bureau what had happened, they seemed disgusted, they said they would put some enforcements around us."

Clarice laughed and shook her head at Ardelia in disbelief.

"I've had it with the FBI, they would have seen it as a blessing if that guy last night had stabbed me to death, after the media mourning period they would be glad of a lack of me, they don't care about me Ardelia. They care about finding Dr Lecter, and I'm their bait, nothing more nothing less."

Ardelia was stunned, she had never heard Clarice talk about the FBI with this amount of disdain, she was truly fed up of what she had endured there.

Clarice stood up from the table.

"I'm ready."

Clarice walked to her front door and pulled it open to be met with white hot flashes in her face.

"I am here to make a statement." She waited for the press to prepare their cameras and began to read from her scrap of paper.

_Last night another federal officer and I were awoken from our beds to find a member of the press in our kitchen. Both of us were particularly alarmed, and my friend was armed, nobody was harmed. However, this is invasion of privacy and harassment. We will press charges. I have no comment to make on the accusations in any of the newspapers. I do not expect an unbiased media, but I don't expect trial by the media. _

Clarice nodded at the people in front of her and headed indoors ignoring the pleading voices of the media.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 

"You didn't talk about the accusations, why?"

"I'm not at liberty to Ardelia; you should know that, I've probably pissed them all off bad style just by showing my face." Clarice was started by a rustling coming from the front door.

Both Agents jumped to their feet and rushed to the door; relief followed by dread filtered onto Clarice's face as she picked up a small envelope off the floor. The handwriting was a familiar copperplate script and she rushed from Ardelia's side to read it.

"Clarice! It's from him isn't it?" Ardelia followed her into her room, tugging at her sweater.

"Please, Ardelia, if it is just let me read it alone; I don't know what he has written." Ardelia was taken aback by the choice of her words, what was there that she wouldn't want her to know? Reluctantly she left the room.

Clarice took a deep breath and opened the letter, her forensics gloves already on her hands.

_Dear Clarice, _

_It is unfortunate that you appear to have been aligned with me in this circumstance; I trust it hasn't changed your feelings for me? Of course not. You are no longer kept awake by the lambs anymore, instead you dream of that night on Chesapeake. How you should have stopped me. How you could not. _

_I am aware of the creature that invaded your home; he shall be dealt with in due course, as will his peers. Do not expect me to call on you during this time Clarice. As much as I would embrace the opportunity, I fear that the dogs currently hounding your abode may notice. _

_I am watching over you Clarice. _

_Your old chum, _

_Dr Hannibal Lecter. MD_

Ripping the gloves from her hands she took the letter in her hands, she could smell his scent on it. It was intoxicating; she closed her eyes and remembered their last meeting. How could any man ever compare to him, that night he shattered every illusion of good and evil she held so dearly.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"You have to take it in Clarice." Ardelia looked at Clarice with shock; registering that her friend was more than willing to keep this piece of evidence from her bosses.

"They can't see it." Clarice folded the letter along its creases and tucked it into her breast pocket. Clarice turned to see her friend framed by the door; her moment of privacy was over.

"What is there in that letter that could possibly be problematic if the Bureau saw it?" Ardelia moved closer to Clarice intrigue blazing in her eyes. Clarice took the letter out of her pocket and passed it to Ardelia. Ardelia felt the smooth surface of the paper beneath her fingertips and unfolded the letter. Ardelia's eyes flickered over the paper and Clarice felt the skin of her face begin to burn.

The blood drew from Ardelia's face.

"Clarice. When he says "_you should have stopped me" _am I right in assuming that that could have more than the one interpretation. This thing reads like a love letter Starling." Ardelia looked at her; her eyes wild with horror.

"Yes. " Clarice took the letter back from Ardelia who dropped it as if it was a bomb into her hand.

"What the hell happened that night Clarice. What happened between you and that... _monster?" _

Clarice shook her head at Ardelia and glanced down painfully at the letter in her hand.

"He kissed me." Ardelia's eyes widened at Clarice and her throat began to gag, like lightning she ran to the kitchen sink and vomited profusely into it. She ran the cold tap and allowed her head to hang over the side of the sink, her arms framing the rest of her body.

"Is it true?" Her voice cracked, she turned to face Clarice with brand new eyes, contempt written all over her face.

"No we're not lovers. I didn't kiss him back, we fought and he jammed me into the refrigerator by my ponytail. He ripped off the handle; like I was going to stand a chance against him." Clarice laughed satirically. She remembered his words to her. "_Tell me Clarice, would you ever say, stop. If you loved me you'd stop?" _ Her body seized at the memory which didn't go unnoticed by Ardelia.

"And that was when?" Clarice nodded in reply.

"Well he made like he was going to bite me, and then he kissed me; I let him but I didn't reciprocate Ardelia. I cuffed him; and then he cut his own hand off to free himself." Clarice stared her friend in the eye. Ardelia looked upon her with a bemused glare.

"He cut his own hand off?" Her face was turning a distinct shade of green once again. Then a realisation dawned on her.

"He really does love you, doesn't he?" She screamed at Clarice; running her hands through her hair and then bringing them down to claw at her face.

Clarice shrugged and dropped her head.

"He's a mad man Clarice, this isn't some guy with an office crush on you, this isn't even Paul Krendler; this is Hannibal Lecter!"

"You don't think I'm aware of that?" Clarice shook herself from her reverie.

"What were you thinking letting him kiss you? Just look at the letter, he thinks because you didn't stop him that you reciprocated." She exclaimed her blood pressure reaching its boiling point.

"I guess you see why I can't take that letter to the Bureau now." Clarice turned on her heel leaving Ardelia stood stunned in the doorway.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Clarice woke to the distinct sound of the telephone; she dragged her feet beneath her and pulled her sheet around her. Lifting the receiver a familiar voice rang into her ears.

"This is Agent Noonan, Ms Starling?" She winced.

"Yes, it's me." Starling yawned into the phone; brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"You need to come down to the Bureau; and bring that damned letter." Noonan slammed the phone down on her, leaving her reeling with shock.

"Shit."

Reluctantly Clarice began to get ready, now she was in trouble. It had obviously been too much for Ardelia; not that she could blame her, it's not every day that your FBI best friend tells you that one of America's most wanted has planted one on her. She dressed quickly; seeing that the sooner she got there the sooner this would be over. Hopefully. Gripping the letter and placing it into her pocket she strolled to her Mustang. She looked around habitually at the cars in the street; half expecting him to be there. Watching. He said he would; and this amount of proximity certainly wouldn't surprise her; after all he enjoyed a risk.

Mercifully the FBI had warned the press away from her; thankfully seeing that an intruder in the home of two FBI Agents was not the way to resolve the matter. Still it was the first time she had left the duplex since the incident, butterflies were apparent in her stomach probably a mixture of anxiety at what she was going to be up against when she stepped foot into the Bureau. She still wasn't sure just how much Ardelia had told them.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Clarice backed her Mustang into a parking space round the back of the Bureau; a nauseous feeling had invaded her stomach, she allowed a sigh to escape her throat and ripped her keys out of the ignition.

"Well here goes nothing." She slammed the door of her car a little too hard for its health. She trained her eyes on the door in front of her and headed to meet her fate.

Before she made it any closer she was met by Agent Noonan, a frown apparent on his face; he seemed to have aged by about a decade in the past few days; Clarice chuckled to herself, the stress was certainly affecting somebody other than her.

"For god's sake Starling, move it!"

She hadn't realised that she was dawdling; perhaps her feet had more sense than her brain not wanting to go any closer to the place than absolutely necessary. She nodded at Noonan and took one last look at her surroundings; if the Bureau had their way over this letter she wouldn't taste fresh air for a long time to come.

"Agent Noonan" she greeted him amicably he nodded quickly at her and held his hand out in front of her; upon it was a forensics glove; she knew what he was after. Clarice took the letter from her pocket and placed it into his gloved hand.

"Well at least there wasn't a struggle." He raised his eyebrow sardonically and motioned for her to follow him.

"Basically Starling you and Lecter have been buggering with the wrong people, if this letter proves to be anything other than a maniac with a crush then you will rot. Perhaps if you are lucky you and Lecter could have conjoining cells."

Starling ignored his feeble attempts at extracting a reaction from her; he appeared to be a lot bolder now that he was safe within the walls of the Bureau. Clarice allowed a wry smile to colour her face Noonan's last comment: He certainly would like that.

After what seemed like the longest walk in FBI history Clarice found herself inside what she knew to be an interview room; she entered noting the corners of the room in which the CCTV was located usually, it felt unnatural to be on the receiving end of all of this. Noonan motioned for her to sit opposite him she acquiesced and gripped onto the arm rests on each side of the chair.

"Ms Starling, the letter has gone to forensics; it will be taken into consideration that you were not resistant in handing the evidence over."

She raised her eyebrows in reply, Noonan coughed and carried on.

"Starling, I know this is a sensitive question but have you had any sexual relations with Dr Hannibal Lecter?" Noonan was unable to look Clarice in the eye when asking the question, knowing the implications behind what her answer would be.

"No, I have never consented to any form of sexual relation with Dr Lecter, nor has he assaulted me in any manner."

"Do you see your relationship with Dr Hannibal Lecter as being anything other than a working relationship?"

"I do not. However, I cannot express his opinion on the matter." Clarice managed to meet the eyes of her former friend; he shivered at the invasion and returned to reading from his script.

"Look Starling, the media think that you had something to do with Paul Krendler's death, we know that given the amount of morphine in your system that could not be the case; however you have aligned yourself with this psychopath; did you do everything in your power stop Dr Lecter?"

"My conscience is clear Agent Noonan, I attempted to struggle with Dr Lecter, however as you are aware I was under the influence of an obscene amount of morphine. I am aware that if you looked at the results of my medical examination after I returned from Chesapeake that I had bruises on my arms which would indicate a struggle and there was also no indication of any foul play on my own or Dr Lecter's part in the other respect."

Noonan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Clarice smiled to herself, knowing that for now this was over, they would have to gather a bit more evidence against her if they wanted to make a case that would stand up in court. Out of nowhere Noonan smiled back to her.

"That was a very nice dress you were wearing that night."

Clarice's smile faltered for a second before returning in full force.

"Like I said I cannot be held responsible for Dr Lecter's tastes. In any incarnation." Noonan shifted his eyes again and motioned for Clarice to leave.

"Thank you Agent Noonan."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Clarice didn't look back until she was safely in her street again, random people appeared to be dotted around on her road; she was all too aware of what they were. They might as well be waving their cameras in her face they were that subtle.

She opened the duplex and wasn't surprised to note that Ardelia wasn't in her half; she had probably decided to spend a few days at a friend's somewhere. Not that Clarice would blame her; perhaps she was worried Dr Lecter would break his promise on not visiting quite yet.

The flashes ceased as soon as she got into the duplex. Hanging up her jacket she made towards the kitchen, there upon the table was an intricately wrapped chocolate bar. Her breath hitched; this certainly wasn't from Ardelia. She took it in her hand and examined the delicate ribbon that covered it. This was some expensive stuff! She caressed the packet under her fingers; she wasn't really a chocolate eater, you can't really afford to be when you are in the FBI. The phone ringing in the other room made her leap out of her trance.

She knew who it was before she even picked up the receiver.

"_Hello Dr. Lecter." _

"_Hmm risky Clarice, I could have been anybody. I hope you liked my gift, you could do with the serotonin." _

"_I didn't have you down as the chocolate's and flowers type Dr Lecter."_

_He chuckled._

"_Oh. The chocolate is for strictly medicinal purposes Clarice." He purred at her down the phone._

"_I assume you have given them the letter then Agent Starling?"_

"_Ardelia. The dangers of a duplex Dr Lecter."_

_She could sense the smile forming on his features as his lips produced his next sentence. _

"_So you wouldn't have then?" _

"_Well you wrote some pretty incriminating things Dr." _

"_Only to the right persons Clarice. How was the interview Agent Starling?"_

"_They have no case. Yet." _

"_They will fabricate one Clarice. But of course you know this don't you? Delusions of the FBI no longer control you do they little Starling?" _

"_No Dr." _

"_It seems Clarice that the apron strings are finally severed. Which party severed them remains to be seen." _

"_What do you mean Dr Lecter?" _

"_All in good time little Starling, soon you will know. When the time comes. You shall know." _

The line went dead.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Thank you so much for all the reviews! I shall make a point of replying to any questions or comments. This is the next chapter of Hounded, There are still a few chapters to go but this is going to be a BIG twist to the story. **

Chapter 11

Clarice was rooted to the spot, the phone was still cradled in her palm, her knuckles were white with strain as her fingers stretched over the plastic receiver. Her throat was dry, her eyes were not. Tears flew freely down her flushed cheeks, her blush increasing over her neck.

She had heard his voice; the maddening riddles he had inflicted on her chased each other around her brain yearning for her attention. It wouldn't take her long; he always ensured she would know exactly what he meant. She dreaded what he was going to feel the need to do in order to drive his point home this time. Had a lobotomy not been enough? Surely by now he must have been aware that the way to her heart was not by bumping off her problem people one by one.

She dropped the receiver carelessly and allowed herself to settle into the sofa behind her; she tucked her left leg under her body allowing herself to curl up into the soft material. The duplex was eerily quiet, the press were gone from outside too; meaning that not even sounds of population on the outside were apparent. She missed the company of her friend; the friend that might have betrayed her.

She flicked the switch on the remote and watched the television progress from a blur of colour into the local news channel; she went to flip over in distaste when she saw her own reflection mirrored to her on the screen. Of course she would still be big news, just because they weren't rooting around her kitchen anymore didn't mean that she was off the hook. Sure enough another picture followed; the compulsory, expected picture of Dr Lecter, the one on his case file no less; the one which had been centre piece in the aptly named "Hannibal's House" in the Bureau. Her eyes were glued to his image; he hadn't looked like that for some time. She remained one of the few live people who could fit the new image with his name. The rest he had slaughtered on his way.

The picture changed abruptly into one that she definitely wasn't expecting; she wouldn't have been alarmed by a picture of the former Justice Chief, but this man was a relative stranger; he was oddly familiar. She hastily groped for the remote and unmuted the television.

The man was the editor of the National Tattler. She was going to be sick. There was no way this was a mere coincidence, mere days before he was ordering his counterparts to invade her home; and now he was missing. This is what Lecter had meant. What a masochistic guardian angel he was. She should have known that the minute that statement was aired that she had put a price on the head of that man; the person clever enough to work out just who she meant was the one person who would carry out the deed. She was in disbelief; she had never envisaged that this would happen.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The soft sunlight of the morning had begun to creep through the curtains of Clarice's room; a babble of noise decorated the trills of birds singing in the cool blue sky. Clarice groaned to herself. They were back then. Obviously the disappearance of one of them hadn't been enough to deter them; they really must have a death wish. Clarice rose out of her bed, rubbing her sore, blotchy eyes with a hand. Things were beginning to take their toll on her, she had always seen herself as being a strong, independent person. Why did she feel so helpless? It made her restless, she had no control anymore. The realisation had come last night, seeing the face of that thing from the press. She was ruled by men, the Bureau resented her for finding Jame Gumb; a silly little girl finding a notorious serial killer almost single handedly, for having such a bond with Lecter and then losing him. Why did everything have to come down to her gender? Would they have accused Jack Crawford or Paul Krendler of having an illicit affair with the doctor if they had been in her position? Probably not. She was a woman, how could a woman be expected to not get emotionally attached; funny really she was accused of being emotionless over the Drumgo case, and now her perceived emotions were just what was getting her into this mess.

She padded downstairs, the movement from the inside of the house sending the press outside into a frenzy; it sounded as if they were attempting to knock her front door off its hinges, she briefly entertained the notion of what they would do if they succeeded. Would they dare to swarm her? She slid up the hallway nearer to the front door; hearing the knocking become more frantic; the talking become quicker and louder. Again papers had been pushed through the door, a picture of her superimposed into a cell neighbouring Lecter's caught her attention; she laughed in her throat and screwed them up into the bin. She wasn't even going to acknowledge it.

She ate cautiously, the chatter outside had died down leaving her in an eerie silence. She snapped on the television not thinking; just wanting something to fill the void of sound. To see her face projected onto the screen, she snapped her finger onto the remote changing the channel over in a flawless movement. She gave up; the next channel had a picture of him on it. Throwing the remote onto the table in disgust she allowed herself to listen to the soft sounds of the newsreader accusing exactly what everyone else had.

"A little less bias wouldn't be too much to ask." Clarice took her plate to the sink, swilling it under the warm water; she allowed her skin to feel the pressure of the water on her hand, allowed the water to slip between each of her fingers in turn. She lost herself in the action, and backed into her own thoughts.

She was startled from her reverie by the mention of an update in the case. She snapped her head to the television and reached for the volume button; cranking it up to the highest it would go. It was no surprise to her, how could this be any less than expected, a body had been found. Lecter would not keep him alive; this was a warning to the rest of them, he would not show mercy. That was why it had gone quiet; they knew what would befall them if they dared to invade her privacy. What she didn't expect was the accompanying picture of her face along with Lecter's she was just as much a suspect as he was.

Surely they didn't think she had killed the man! She had had plenty of opportunity, that was true and no alibi. But surely her every movement was accounted for in some way, then again the press were not exactly going to help her out with an alibi when she had been the cause of the death of one of their own. They were aware that finding and putting Lecter to justice was going to be a lot more difficult than obtaining justice by having her rot for his crime. It would be strangely ironic in a way. Lecter's plan of protecting her from afar blowing up, right in his face.

The phone was ringing off the hook, she wasn't sure whether or not to answer, it could be anybody. That thought was the one that made her pick it up. How could she be sure it wasn't him? Sure enough she was met by the sound of a very familiar voice.

"Clarice, I am on my way."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

She was still in shock. Her body refused to move as the door behind her opened, her visitor had used the back door, preferring to keep away from the media who still littered the path outside, all be it in far less numbers than mere hours ago.

"Ardelia." Clarice stood rooted to the spot, not knowing how her friend would take to her approaching her. She needn't have bothered musing, Ardelia collapsed onto her, drawing her arms tight around her.

"Oh Clarice, girl, I'm so sorry." She sobbed into her hair; Clarice slowly reciprocated the hug, hesitantly lifting her arms around her friend.

"There's no need. I know how it must look to you." Clarice spoke in a low monotone, exhaustion seemed to have tripped her up right at that moment, her eyes were still red and blotchy and her skin was dry and almost scaly to the touch.

"No. Clarice, you shouldn't have had to go through _this_ alone. I know you didn't kill him." Ardelia released her gently, holding her at arm's length; she screwed her face up in distaste.

"Girl you look a mess!" Clarice managed to expel a laugh from somewhere inside her and nodded to Ardelia.

"I don't like what happened with you and Lecter, but I can't let you go through this alone. We're going to get you the best attorney in freaking America Starling." She placed Clarice back onto her chair, taking the one next to her for herself.

"What's the score, 'Delia?" Clarice murmured.

Ardelia looked her intently in the eye, truth burning in them.

"It's bad Starling. The press are refusing to make a statement confirming that you were in your home on the night of the murder, they are claiming that they did not have anybody watching the premises due to the ban from the Bureau; of course we know this is a load of shit. They were on every corner."

Clarice raked a hand through her auburn hair, interlocking her fingers as they returned back to the table.

"Surely they know its Lecter?"

"They aren't ruling it out of course, especially after the letter, but it seems someone really is out to get you on this one Starling, the case is building. I'm so sorry, if I had been here..."

"No." Clarice gripped Ardelia's hand with her own, conveying her understanding of Ardelia's situation through her eyes.

"It's a trap. They know Lecter won't stand for me taking the credit for his murder and rotting for it. They know he will do something that will jeopardise his freedom to get me off the hook and if he doesn't then they seek to punish him, punish us; through me. "

"It's a fair point, but you could never prove it, what can Lecter do?"

Clarice smiled, she looked at the television in front of her, it had conveniently decided to show the textbook picture of Lecter; the curve of his lips as he smirked out of the television to her spoke volumes.

"He'll confess."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Dr Lecter seated himself at the desk in the room he was staying in. The furnishings were fine to say the least; it was a very accommodating hotel to somebody as free with their money as he. The television was on the background, he was not an avid watcher by any means, in actual fact he rarely entertained sitting staring at the box however, things had been different, it had become very useful in finding out the latest developments in Clarice Starling's impending criminal proceedings. This was easily rectified, he could stop it very simply or at least cause a halt in the proceedings, a diversion would be all he needed; all she needed.

He picked up the peacock feather quill that had resided by his hand and set about writing.

_To whom it may concern, _

_I thank you for the recent entertainment you have been subjecting myself and the delectable Ms. Starling to over the previous days, it really is delightful to be able to view such a incorruptible and fine woman as Ms Starling aligned with myself. I anticipate however, that she does not reciprocate this musing. As much as I am aware that Ms Starling has a rather ferocious side and is certainly not an amateur with a firearm I can be certain that the recent events are not due to her. _

_Consider this my confession, I Hannibal Lecter, murdered the newspaper editor; his fault was his unadulterated rudeness, however, you gave him the opportunity for the deed which I felt the need to punish him for. Tut tut, you really should watch over your Agents. After all I have not befriended all of them. Besides it would be a lifelong circus attempting to clear up the messes that you leave behind. However I digress. _

_I killed the newspaper editor, I. Not Clarice Starling. You could say I frightened him to death; the sight of me was enough to make him beg like a small animal. You could say he would have been better off if it had been Clarice. She wouldn't have subjected him to the horrors that I did. Look at his scalp; in early medicine doctors would drill holes into the back of the head to release evil spirits which had possessed the person. Of course not many lived to see a difference. Check to see what he last ate. It really was a treat. _

_I trust this is enough to convince you of my guilt. _

_Regards, _

_Dr Hannibal Lecter M.D_

He smiled to himself, as he turned to see Clarice's face on the screen yet again.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Clarice. You there girl?" Ardelia flung her jacket onto a hook and almost sprinted across her side of the duplex to Starling.

"Kitchen." Starling yelled back, rising out of her chair to see what had startled Ardelia so much, she could hear the brisk pace of Ardelia's feet and slung her head around the doorframe to meet her.

"You were right. Lecter has confessed. He wrote a rather graphic letter to the Bureau with just enough detail to confirm that he was the murderer."

Ardelia flung herself around Clarice, her face full with glee. Clarice managed to crack a small smile at her friend, and allowed a satisfied laugh to erupt from her mouth.

"It's going to be alright Starling, Lecter came up good hey. You know sometimes having an insight into him like you do isn't just creepy, it can be kind of useful ha!" Clarice smiled back, and was led into the living room by Ardelia, the press had caught on to Lecter's confession now, a rather watered down and subdued version of his letter had been doing the rounds.

"You should sleep honey." Ardelia smiled warmly at her friend and flicked the off switch on the television. Clarice nodded in reply and gave her friend one last hug before retiring.

The night was crisp and cool, the sky was a clear midnight blue with not a cloud invading it; she was stood framed in her bedroom window investigating the patterns forming in the sky. She followed her gaze down onto the street below, watching the streetlamps reflect pictures onto the pavement below. Her eyes fixed on a figure on the other side of the street; it was shrouded by the leaves of the tree opposite the duplex; bathed in an orange glow. She ran her gaze over the figure, squinting reflexively to gain a better view. When she was satisfied that she couldn't get a better view than the one she had at the moment she clasped the curtains shut and climbed into bed.

Sleep refused to come; she pressed her eyelids together willing sleep to sate her. She curled her legs up into her body; into the foetal position, circling her knees with her arms. Her body was exhausted; her muscles were limp with fatigue but her mind was the opposite; it was a swirling mass of everything and nothing, vivid images invaded it, pictures of Paul Krendler with the top of his head missing, the faces of her fellow Agents as she was found that night, Ardelia's expression when she realised the truth about her dark relationship with Dr Lecter.

Suddenly she felt a warm touch gently swipe across her hairline, the touch trickled over her scalp, caressing it softly, her blood ran cold. Her tired body refused to move, with all of her will she managed to turn herself in the opposite direction; her eyes still pressed firmly shut.

"Dr. Lecter." She hadn't yet opened her eyes, when warm fingers massaged their way down her cheek.

"Yes. Clarice." His metallic voice rang out into her ears; she savoured the feel of his soothing fingers on her skin and slowly prised open her eyes.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Doctor." Her breath hitched as she set her eyes on the face that had been haunting her for the past 10 years.

"Hush Clarice." He allowed a finger to run along her strong jaw line, and then abruptly took away his hand and rested it inside the pocket of his dark trousers.

"It was you, across the street, weren't it?" He grinned at her; like a Cheshire Cat. She bolted upright, tearing her aching muscles out of bed and backing up towards the wall furthest away from him.

"You always were curious weren't you Clarice?" He straightened up to stand; remaining at the side of her bed. She instinctively brushed her hand over her trousers searching for a weapon; anything she could use to bring him in. Of course any weaponry she would have had; not that she would wear it to bed had been confiscated, she brought her hand to her hair and combed her fingers through it; sighing to herself. He smiled at her preening gesture, and made his way around her bed; his fingers leaving a trail on the sheet as he walked. Her breath hitched as she watched him invading her private room and so blatantly acquainting himself with her bed, she found herself watching his hand intently as he did so not realising just how close he was until she felt his warm breath on her cheek. Abruptly her eyes found his; the parallel was striking, she swallowed inhaling suddenly.

"I thought you would appreciate my helping the Bureau with their enquiries Clarice." He whispered in her ear; his vocalisation was pure statement, he was not asking her.

"Thank you doctor." Her voice was strong and decisive, he could not win.

He smiled at her, his small pointed teeth catching the slither of light that peeped through a crack in the curtain.

"As much as I relish our current pose Clarice, I feel relocation may be in order, I am after all a gentleman."

"A gentleman you may be, however you have been unforgivably rude invading my private room in this way." She mocked him, challenging him enticingly; she smirked at him and watched his expression relax into a mirror image of his own. He took a hand in his own and much to her surprise he gingerly placed his lips upon her frozen knuckles.

"Forgive me."

As his mouth left her hand she fumbled for her dressing gown, her eyes still locked on his face watching for any abrupt movement he might choose to make. Her hands grasped the soft material of her gown and she slipped the long jacket over her shoulders, she tied the belt to it quickly; still watching him as his gaze slipped down to her hands which had begun to caress the belt in her awkwardness. He brought his eyes back up her face raising his eyebrows animatedly to her startling her out of her stupor; she cleared her throat tersely and bowed her head to him.

"I trust the kitchen is out of bounds?" He cocked his head at her smirking once again. She smiled warmly for the first time that night and grasped his hand.

"I think the living room would be a better choice Dr Lecter, There are far less instruments with potential for violence there."

"I trust you are correct Clarice." He bowed his head back to her as she brushed her body past his own motioning towards the exit of the bedroom.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Hi everyone, thank you for your patience, I haven't been able to write in a while because I have just started University and sitting in my room being productive isn't very sociable unfortunately but here is the next chapter of Hounded, we last left Dr Lecter and Clarice going into the lounge of her duplex after he had so rudely walked in on her sleeping. **

Chapter 17

He smiled gently to himself as he felt her body move across his, savouring the touch of her hand as it found his own. She gripped him with an iron hold; her long white fingers dwarfed in his own much larger hand. She yanked him not too gracefully into her living room immediately dropping his hand from hers as if it was on fire as he dared to brush his fingers delicately across her cool flesh. She coughed feebly as he noticed her flex the muscles on her hand, viewing the speculatively as if they had acted of their own volition; he relished the confusion on her face, the conflict.

"Why are you here doctor?"

She whined, her voice tinged with exhaustion; he cocked his head at her and looked her up and down; she was different, her features were pale and drawn and bags had begun to decorate her previously flawless complexion. He took in the image and sighed to himself.

"Had I known the abuse you should have suffered at your own hand I would have come sooner Clarice." He scolded her like an old schoolmaster, making her turn from him shyly.

"How will I ever thank you." She added sardonically, he smirked his trademark smirk and motioned to the chair behind her. Obediently she followed his instruction and took a seat on the chair; he took a seat next to her, leaving a small gap between them so as not to completely invade her personal space.

"Are you feeling alright Clarice?" She turned to him startled to hear his voice so close to her.

"Why do you do this?" She glared at him, her eyes murderous but her voice soft and yielding.

"Now Clarice, your statement was so slightly ambiguous, would you care to expand your point?" The metallic tang of his voice left a prickly trail on her spine, each soft downy hair stood to attention.

"Why do you keep coming back Dr. Lecter?" He smiled then. Satisfied with her answer, he sighed and drew nearer to her moving a stray strand of hair from over her eye.

"Honey in the lion. Clarice." His voice dropped to a low whisper, even given their almost intimate position she had to strain to hear him. Her eyes immediately dropped from his, shame formed a guilt ridden transcript across her features. She darted from her place on the sofa next to him, wringing one hand with the other, anything to keep herself occupied as her mind raced through all the possibilities that this encounter could end in.

He was moving towards her, keeping his distance as she battled within herself. Slowly he extended a hand to her; she moved closer not quite knowing exactly what she was doing when he grasped her wrist firmly. His fingers skimmed across her skin leaving tiny goose bumps in its wake, he prized her palm flat, allowing himself to place his own against hers, like when two children measure their hands in order to see whose is biggest. Then from nowhere, he placed her phone into the middle of her outstretched hand.

"Make the call Clarice. I have never objected to your morals before, I do not intend to start." She gulped audibly and looked down at the phone.

"What is your plan Dr?" She looked at him questionably, could she really bring him in? Sentence him to a life of solitude? She would stay in his cell and hold his hand, metaphorically of course.

He chuckled at her questioning gaze and leant to her,

"Believe me Clarice; I have no intention of allowing myself to be incarcerated again." He nodded at her, willing her to grasp an understanding. Shaking she made the phone call.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The dialling tone buzzed in her ear, she kept her eyes permanently glued to his waiting for some indication of how to go about this phone call.

"FBI."

"It's Agent Starling, Dr. Lecter has forced entry into my duplex, I advise you to send somebody immediately."

The voice on the other end of the line trembled feebly as he turned to acknowledge the news to his superiors. Lecter danced his way behind Clarice, she shivered as he brushed past her hip; his own pressing firmly against it. His hand swept to the phone and covered the mouthpiece with precision his mouth going to her ear; his voice a silken caress.

"You have barricaded yourself into the bathroom."

"Are you secure Agent Starling?"

The voice trembled. Lecter slowly lifted his hand from the receiver moving his hands around the back of her body before sliding them up to meet her shoulders, her voice shook as she felt him exhale onto the back of her neck; she continued answering the question as she had been advised.

"We are sending back-up immediately Agent Starling, stay where you are if you are unable to leave the duplex. " She hit the end button cutting off the rest of the secretary's speech midsentence. Lecter withdrew a hand and took the receiver from her.

"Now you have a choice Clarice, by my calculations we have no more than 10 minutes before your friends at the FBI arrive, first choice – I make a mess of the bathroom, administer some chloroform and make some small but necessary bruises on your person to indicate a struggle, or second choice, we both trash the bathroom, spill a little chloroform and you leave with me?"

Her eyes widened at his proposal, her weight shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

"I can't." She croaked, not daring to look at him.

"Can't or won't Clarice?" He tilted her chin with a smooth finger, and clicked his tongue at her."

"It all comes down to the next ten minutes Clarice, I can leave now, you will never hear from me again, I am honourable to my word, this will be the last time I trouble you."

She flopped backwards onto the couch behind her, his eyebrows raised slightly in surprise at her sudden movement. He could sense her battling with herself; everything she had ever held dear was about to be uprooted if she made the correct decision. He knew that, she knew that.

"You have no idea what these past few months have been like." She mumbled more to herself than to him; he stalked towards her cocking his head slightly to one side and smirking at her.

"Enlighten me." He placed himself immediately next to her; he felt no need for pleasantries as he sidled up close to her side ensuring that he could feel the muscle of her leg with his own. She shifted uncomfortably, still warring.

"I had done nothing wrong, and yet I was treated like a common criminal." She focused herself on a chip in the wall so she didn't have to look at him as her eyes began to sting mercilessly, threatening to bubble over with salty truths.

"You heard them didn't you Clarice, My name followed by yours, united in the thoughts of the world. What is morality Clarice? What is truth Clarice? If not your interpretation of it, find your own truths Clarice mould them and embrace them." He sighed watching her expressions change subtly under his scrutiny. He couldn't resist, his hand slid across his trousers his fingers aching to touch hers; he allowed them and gripped her hand. The most innocent affection. He heard her exhale, heard her decide.

"If I had known Clarice that all I had to do was hold your hand..." He smirked at her and stroked a finger with one of his own; his clear allusion of their meeting in Memphis. At this a small smile broke through on to her visage and she allowed her finger to reciprocate his attention.

"Why is it the one person who understands me is the one person I feel morally obliged to hate?" He chuckled at her outburst, the pouting look on her face.

"Because my dear, if there was no obstacle we would have never come to be, remember that Clarice. If it weren't for those unscrupulous morals of yours we would have never met. You'll never hate me Clarice, because we are curious about each other, we enlighten each other. Opposites Clarice and yet more similar than perhaps you will ever realise."

"It's going to take time Clarice to get used to our companionship I realise that, don't be disheartened if you are feeling wary at this moment in time, liberation is figuratively just around the corner Clarice. " She nodded at him pain still contorting her features, her mind was made up and yet still she battled.

"Where will we go?" He grinned, she was accepting him. He pushed his hand into the interior lining of his jacket and pulled out an envelope passing it to her. She prised open the top and peered inside her the fingers of the hand which was not intertwined with his lingering on the edge; she took her hand from his and delved inside.

"Argentina." She smiled, he was playing cautiously.

"Well tick tock Clarice; we have but 5 minutes to execute our escape."

She rose to his height, she wasn't much shorter than him really, in heels she would have definitely been at least his height if not slightly taller. He moved towards her, she was certain this was it; he would kiss her, seal the deal so to speak. He merely moved a strand of hair from across her eye a gentle smile filling the plains of his face. She chuckled darkly to herself, she was disappointed, and she had been willing him to kiss her. Ha! Hannibal Lecter, she had been willing Hannibal Lecter to kiss her!

She followed him to her bathroom delighting in the way he proceeded to push the furniture up against the door on the inside and watched him as he stepped gracefully over it and locked the door.

"Now what?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Would I be here if I didn't?" He smirked at her answer and sidled closer to her, his mouth trickling warm air over the planes of her face. He grew closer still until he heard her make contact with the wall behind her, she had unconsciously backed herself against the wall; leaving herself at his mercy. He slipped a hand against her cheek and buried his nose into the side of hers. She was acquiescent, fuelled on further he slid his face downwards and placed his lips gently against her own. Her felt her curiously lean into the kiss; felt her capture his top lip between hers. Sighing he drew back.

"As much as it pains me to say so we shall have to resume this later sweet Clarice. Now I'm going to pick this lock and then we are going have some fun; throwing around your bathroom furniture deal?"

"It's a deal Doctor." She smiled at him fully her eyes lighting up with the action.

He was a master of his art, she had barely finished her sentence and he was in. Before they knew it he was kicking an array of furniture around the bathroom and dropping a small amount of chloroform onto the carpet. She looked around her at the astonishing mess he had managed to make in such a small space of time; finding her image reflected in the mirror. She stood, stuck on that spot, staring at herself, expecting some kind of difference to be apparent; how could it not be? The difference came, a second reflection wrapping its arms around the waist of the first; its lips caressing her. He was the difference.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"We should go." Clarice whispered to the figure in the mirror, watching as he drew his lips across her neck, he inhaled deeply and relaxed his grip around her frame his hands trailing down her bare arms to meet her eager hands.

"Of course. I took the liberty of acquiring you a false passport; it wouldn't do to use your own after all." He reached a hand into his jacket pocket and withdrew the documents handing them across to her. She smirked at him, her face brightening with humour.

"What made you so certain that I would need this?" Her smirk broadened across her lips and he mirrored her action.

"You are the one who has intricately studied each word of my case file; you tell me."

"So smug." She muttered; shrouded with a chuckle.

"I feel I have every right at this present moment in time Clarice." Her skin flushed with warmth at the obvious complement he had just paid her.

Sensing her discomfort at the matter he grasped a hand in his own.

"However, I digress, indeed we should leave, getting this far only to be incarcerated again would not be conducive to my efforts."

Nodding her acquiescence they proceeded to leave the room, her hand encased within his larger one. This was it, her decision had been made; the point of no return had come and gone. She found herself looking around the room, her eyes darting from one corner to another, he was a serial murderer. What she was or is shouldn't matter, every single layer had been peeled back, her very being was on parade, for once it wasn't him stripping back the layers, it had been herself. The night Paul Krendler died changed everything, changed her every essence; she thought that when she came back to the FBI things would be different, they would show her the way back to the person she used to be; she was a righteous person, she is a righteous person, serial killer or no serial killer, nothing can change that. There's nothing quite like having the whole foundations of your very existence extracted from beneath you as you plod onwards; blissfully unaware of your own naked intentions. They would know what had happened; that she had left with him, if Jack Crawford was still alive they would be cursing him as he cursed himself. They had led him into his arms that afternoon.

She found herself outside her home, his grasp upon her becoming tighter as he dragged her dramatically across her own front path, his hand resting against her throat enough to look painful without actually being so and opened the passenger side door to a battered old van parked a few houses down. He pushed her inside, rejoicing in the knowledge that she understood his intentions as she launched herself forwards towards him in an overzealous effort to make the charade of her struggle look authentic to prying eyes. He managed to make a deal of pushing her back inside and locking the doors before circling around the car in a hurried dance to take a seat next to her.

He clasped the door shut, not taking his eyes of her as he started the car and abruptly kicked it into gear, he had gone no further than two blocks when he pulled over at the curb and beckoned her to leave the van. He took her hand with his own as he guided her through an alley way, both of them watching with similar intent for the tell tale signs of footsteps behind them. He held his hand out before him pointing to a black Mercedes.

"I take it this is our ride doctor?"

"Indeed."

He smiled gently at her as she took her place again in the passenger's seat and leant over to take her chin in his fingers.

"It's over Clarice. You're free." She smiled back, capturing his fingers with her own.

"We're not even out of the country yet Dr."

"Clarice, I've done this a thousand times before, in a few hours time we will be in a hotel room in Argentina."

She nodded slowly at their intertwined fingers, not daring to take her eyes away from them.

"But we really should get a move on Clarice." She smiled and detached her fingers from his.

The engine roared beneath his touch as they set of for the airport.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

A slither of Argentine sunlight crept through the curtains playing over the soft lines of Clarice Starling's face, involuntarily her eyelids trembled and she prised them open, the black abyss of her dreams switching to a blurred reality. Her head was positioned oddly on the pillow, her body almost at an angle, how she had managed to sleep comfortably in such a position was unbelievable. Trying to focus her vision she squeezed her eyes shut once more, willing the stinging that the brightness of the room had caused to subside. She opened them to be met with the sleeping face of Hannibal Lecter. Her random sleeping position had been explained; she had invaded his pillow.

She smiled to herself musing about the time they had shared together the night before. The flight to Argentina had frayed her nerves and tested her patience, of course Dr Lecter being so used to such a situation had found her restlessness particularly amusing, especially the need to pace the plane at particular intervals, thankfully the need for discretion had put her off trying to make too much of a parade. Although, the delectable way she had frustratingly brushed her hand over the taught muscle of his thigh had threatened to weaken him; she delighting in his lack of control over her ministrations.

"Clarice," The eyes had opened and she was faced with his maroon orbs, boring into her, he would have looked positively menacing if it hadn't have been for the sated smirk pulling at his lips.

"Hannibal." She smiled, her eyes sparkling with glee as he touched her face with his fingertips, tilting her chin forwards towards him. Her eyes closed as she felt him kiss her good morning and she sleepily crushed her body into his, his arm moving to allow her hip to settle into his and resting across her back. She brought a hand gently across his chest resting it upon his breast bone and moulding herself closer to him.

"Are you hungry?" Clarice shook her head, her copper coloured hair splaying across his chest as she laid her head where her hands had been previously and pressed her lips to his skin, suddenly he felt her mouth move into a huge grin and a chuckle to burst from her throat.

"Clarice?" She moved her head to look at him, her smile huge across her face.

"I was just thinking how nice it is to not have the press pushing their crap through my letter box, and then I got thinking even more"... she smirked, "I was wondering if the National Tattler would lose all credibility now it has actually printed something with a basis in truth."

He smiled, his eyebrows rising up at her, she mirrored him, a small mocking gesture he would no doubt have her pay for later.

"To be perfectly truthful, some of the little scenarios they had dreamt up made my own pale in comparison, and I pride myself on being particularly imaginative Clarice."

His smile turned smug and he cradled her chin in his hands. She smiled back, and nipped at his bottom lip, his eyes were still hooded as she looked down at him. She captured his lips feeling them move against her own, she raised her head to look at him again, his mouth twitched and curled up at the edges into a satirical grin, he brought a hand to her face, and bringing her back towards him he curled his face into her neck, nuzzling her. She felt him breathe against her, and heard the faint sounds of his metallic voice, as his smile spread across her neck.

"Thank you Jack Crawford."


End file.
